


kick it back to me (so i can shoot again)

by glissandos



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Banter, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Ice Skating, M/M, Soccer, Sports, kind of rivals to lovers?, really just 2min being brats to each other and enjoying it, winter shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28335375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glissandos/pseuds/glissandos
Summary: It’s the first day of class, and Seungmin is pulling out a notebook and pencils from his bag when he spots someone he hasn’t seen in two years striding into the lecture hall.Minho looks up at the rows of students, clearly trying to decide where to sit, and when his sweeping gaze comes to a startled halt upon noticing Seungmin, Seungmin can already sense it brewing.Trouble.
Relationships: Kim Seungmin/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Minor or Background Relationship(s), past seungsung - Relationship, very minor binsung
Comments: 48
Kudos: 327
Collections: SKZ Secret Santa 2020





	kick it back to me (so i can shoot again)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fazerdaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fazerdaze/gifts).



> my gift for skz secret santa 2020 ([twitter](https://twitter.com/stayfanevents))
> 
> hello recipient: i was originally going to write minsung but then you talked about the enemies to lovers tag and that got me thinking about 2min so here we are haha! this is way different from what i normally write (haven't written 2min, haven't written enemies/rivals to lovers, haven't really written sports) but it was a very fun challenge so i hope you enjoy :D
> 
> also happy holidays to everyone who is reading!

It’s almost painful. It’s the first day of class, and Seungmin is pulling out a notebook and pencils from his bag when he spots someone he hasn’t seen in two years striding into the lecture hall.

Minho looks up at the rows of students, clearly trying to decide where to sit, and when his sweeping gaze comes to a startled halt upon noticing Seungmin, Seungmin can already sense it brewing.

Trouble.

Briefly, he debates whether or not to pretend that he doesn’t recognize him, doesn’t recognize Minho’s challenging eyes or crooked smile, but it’s too late—Minho is already making a beeline for his aisle. 

All Seungmin can think is _oh no—oh hell no._

\---

Whenever he used to play against Minho, Seungmin wasn’t sure what he wanted more—to sock Minho right in the stomach with a powerful kick to the soccer ball, or to actually score a goal past him.

Frankly, either option would have been a victory; with the former, Seungmin might finally see that self-satisfied smirk wiped off of Minho’s face, and with the latter, Seungmin would put their team one point closer to winning the game. 

Unfortunately, Minho was a goalie, and by default goalies are tasked with preventing the ball from shooting past them into the goal net. That meant that if Seungmin tried to hit Minho with the ball then Minho would likely just catch it with his hands instead, and if Seungmin tried to go the nicer, not-physical route then Minho would also try his hardest to prevent him from making a goal. 

In the end, generally neither happened—Seungmin would miss the shot completely, much to the chagrin of his team and obvious amusement of Minho. But they played Minho’s team _many,_ many times during the span of Seungmin’s first two years in high school, and inevitably Seungmin finally got sweet victory—scoring past Minho more than once. 

Looking back, younger Seungmin’s thoughts were definitely pretty mean at times, but he never actually ended up hurting Minho. Seungmin was all bark and no bite, constantly irritated by Minho but somehow never enough to truly hate the other.

Now, though, life just seemed out to get him.

One week into university Seungmin received two unpleasant surprises: first (as witnessed just now) that the very same Lee Minho was attending this university too, and had been for the last two years. Second, that Minho was in his music class—and Seungmin would have to see his face twice a week for the rest of the semester.

That alone wasn’t horrible; their turbulent history with each other aside, Seungmin could admit that Minho had a… nice face. Except that ever since Minho had noticed Seungmin in that same class on the first day he had taken it upon himself to sit next to Seungmin during each lecture, and he never failed to shoot Seungmin a bright and innocuous smile each time he slid into the seat to Seungmin’s left—even after Seungmin had changed seats more than once. It was like he knew just how much doing so annoyed the other. And Seungmin was in no real position to complain since Minho didn’t even really say or do anything; he just harmlessly listened and took notes, so Seungmin grit his teeth and did the same.

One month into university Seungmin received the third unpleasant surprise. Perhaps he should have seen it coming, with how his luck was going. For their music class, their latest assignment was to write a song with an assigned partner, and Seungmin had been assigned to none other than Minho. 

\---

“Music?” had been Minho’s only question on that first day of class as he sat down next to Seungmin. 

“I sing sometimes,” had been Seungmin’s brusque reply. 

“Oh.” Minho’s eyes had widened in surprise, and then he’d offered Seungmin a smile. “Me too,” he had said. 

Seungmin wasn’t sure if having another interest in common was really a good thing, but Minho’s ensuing smile had been genuine and unlike the cocky grins he used to always hand out on the field in high school, so Seungmin let it slide. 

\---

“Hey, Seungmin, I guess I’ll get to hear your singing now,” Minho mused, nonchalantly tapping his fingers on the table when the partner list was projected onto the board. But he couldn’t hide the way his eyes had lit up and Seungmin could practically hear the near-sadistic glee in his voice. Seungmin balled up his hands into fists under the table—oh, how he wished he had a soccer ball to kick into the other, now.

Ignoring the sinking sense of dread in his stomach, Seungmin turned to face him. “It doesn’t have to be something with vocals—we could do an instrumental, too.” Honestly, Seungmin didn’t want to do an instrumental because he didn’t know how to create complex pieces from scratch and it would be easier to write vocals over a simple backing track, but he was also self-conscious of his singing voice and the last person who really needed to hear it was Minho.

Minho raised a brow. “But do you _want_ to do an instrumental?”

Seungmin had half a mind to glare at him, but again, Minho’s question was honest and searching, so he just sighed. “Not really,” Seungmin replied, defeated. “Guess I’ll get to hear your singing too, then.” 

And if Seungmin was just as curious to hear Minho’s singing, he didn’t voice that to Minho. 

\---

It was weird; Minho played soccer defensively and yet aggressively—Seungmin could always almost feel the intensity radiating off of him all the way across the field.

And yet, in the practice rooms, Minho’s singing voice was soft and calming, the complete opposite. 

Seungmin had never been very religious, but this was probably what angels sounded like in heaven. He could still appreciate a nice voice, even if he didn’t particularly enjoy Minho’s presence.

To be honest, Seungmin had never _hated_ Minho—hate was a strong word, and not one Seungmin would have really wanted to pin on anyone. Mostly, Seungmin hated the way he was beginning to dislike Minho less and less. 

But perhaps he didn’t have the best of reasons to dislike the other in the first place.

\---

Back to the beginning: 

In his freshman year of high school, Seungmin joined the soccer team. It was honestly an impulsive decision, fueled by a) less-than-encouraging words from his parents that they were proud of his grades but rather disappointed at how he lacked a balance since he hadn’t really gotten into athletics outside of mandatory P.E. classes and b) his friend Jisung betting him five school lunches that he wouldn’t last a month on the team. 

The school lunches tasted horrible and that should have indicated how much Jisung was just joking around with his bet. He and Seungmin were good friends— _best_ friends—after all, and Jisung really didn’t mean any harm, but Seungmin took it as a challenge anyway. So when Jisung had stayed after school one day to check out the team’s first practice, Seungmin had come with him.

Their school’s team wasn’t that great—and was also lacking players—so both Jisung and Seungmin were readily accepted into the team despite neither of them having any prior experience. Chan, an upperclassman and the team’s self-proclaimed leader at the time, took it upon himself to teach them both from the bottom up. The thing was that Chan was seriously devoted to the sport, and both Seungmin and Jisung had severely underestimated the time they’d spend practicing, but they both pushed forward because they’d kind of already committed.

Somehow two months of rigorous training turned them into semi-acceptable high-school players. And it’s not like most other school teams in the area were necessarily that much better; this was in a relatively wealthier part of town where academics were usually prioritized over sports. But by that time Seungmin and Jisung had actually kind of warmed up to soccer, and they’d also formed nice friendships with some of the other members, namely Chan and some other freshman who had skipped a grade named Jeongin.

Then the games against other high schools started.

Seungmin had never really been a super loud and competitive person. Jisung was, and he was completely in his element. But Seungmin found it hard to be as enthusiastic as Jisung was about winning—he quite enjoyed playing soccer by now, but he wasn’t really the type to be motivated by loud chants from the sidelines or numbers on the scoreboard. 

Until he met Minho.

The goalie of their neighboring high school was… interesting.

He was competitive like Jisung, but in a fiercer way—the first time their schools played each other, Seungmin couldn’t stop thinking about how determined and focused his eyes were as he tracked the ball across the field. 

But also… Minho was playful. Soccer was a game, after all, and they were the players, but Minho liked to rile up others on the field, squatting low or leaving one side of the net open with the confidence that he’d stop the ball anyway. And it wasn’t like his confidence was unfounded, since most of the times he did. 

It just infuriated Seungmin sometimes—he’d be running towards the other team’s net while trying to dribble the ball away from the other players, and then he’d glance up as he made the kick towards the goal and Minho would just be there, grinning wickedly at him as he caught the flying ball like the action came as naturally to him as breathing.

And so Seungmin felt himself falling more into the competitive spirit, and the first time he scored a goal past Minho he’d grinned victoriously back. But Minho had still appeared unfazed, much to his disappointment, and so he spent their next game against each other trying to elicit a reaction out of the elder. Minho probably enjoyed it a little too much—the irritating smile never left his face even when his team was losing, and only brightened when they came back to steal the win. 

They were rivals, sort of, but mostly just in Seungmin’s head.

\---

A couple of times, Jisung had made fun of him— “Dude, you almost missed my pass because you were glaring at the goalie! Oh, did I say glaring? I meant _staring,_ ”—to which Seungmin had just rolled his eyes. 

But Jisung’s not here now. He’s a hundred miles away studying at a different school with the rest of 3RACHA, and Seungmin has no one to stop him as he stares at Minho’s mouth forming pretty syllables in falsetto.

Which is definitely weird and Seungmin needs to get a grip.

“So?” Minho glances curiously towards him as he finishes the excerpt, “What did you think?” 

“It’s… good,” Seungmin replies, throat oddly dry. 

Minho snorts. “Thanks.”

“Definitely something we can work with,” Seungmin elaborates, already thinking of the ways he can incorporate Minho’s voice into the song. They’ve decided to go with a relatively simple repeated guitar melody in the background since Seungmin can (sort of) play the instrument from when Jisung taught him the basics back in high school. 

“Alright. Now your turn,” Minho tells him, and Seungmin leans back against the old piano in the practice room as he avoids Minho’s eyes and sings. 

“What!” Minho says, eyes sparkling and mouth open after Seungmin finishes. “You’re amazing.”

Seungmin laughs wryly. “There are lots of people who are better.”

“Still,” Minho says seriously. “I didn’t know you could sing. _.._ ”

“I didn’t know you could sing either,” Seungmin points out.

“Yes, but, like… _really_ sing,” Minho insists. He lets out a low whistle. “Damn, we’re set for this project.”

Seungmin laughs loudly, brashly, and feels heat rising to his face. He wonders where all of Minho’s smug smiles went, because Seungmin barely seen a single one in the past month—just honest, appreciative smiles instead. “Don’t say that when we’ve barely started.”

Seungmin jinxes it, because the next thing that happens is Minho’s mouth curling up into a confident smirk. “Because I’m obviously the other half of this project’s success,” he easily replies, “I think I’m qualified enough to say so.”

At least Minho’s singing voice soothes the incoming headache Seungmin’s going to be getting from him.

\---

Rather than being off-put by the way Seungmin briskly and methodically runs through their meetings, Minho only seems to grow more amused, though Seungmin’s not sure why project organization is so funny to him. Seungmin just wants to finish the assignment in as little time as possible, and then he’ll have more free time _and_ he won’t have to be stuck with Minho.

It’s kind of hard, though; every time Seungmin suggests they try something for their song Minho nods along and offers his own opinion, and then right as Seungmin thinks they’re actually getting good progress done the elder starts… veering off topic. 

Without warning.

“I had a friend who got locked in one of the practice rooms before,” Minho says once. “But the guy he liked happened to get locked in there with him, and they finally confessed and kissed and all that, so I guess it was okay.”

Seungmin blinks mutely. “Uh..” he begins. “Why are you telling me this?”

He’s not _that_ dumb. Currently he and Minho _are_ in one of the practice rooms.. and… oh no... “Don’t tell me we somehow got locked in here?” he blurts out. “Fuck, I have to start on an essay tonight too, I don’t have time for—”

“Relax,” Minho says, and it’s clear he’s trying to contain his laughter. “We’re not locked in. Actually, as far as I know there’s only one practice room with a broken lock, and _I_ was the one who locked both of my friends in until they would say something. Caused some trouble but in the end I think it was still worth it.”

“Wait, what—” 

“Brilliant idea, right?” Minho grins, delighted. “Those two had been dancing around each other for _months._ It was about time they got a push in the right direction.”

“You’re still friends with them?” Seungmin asks, snarkily, and secretly basks in the way the grin on Minho’s face suddenly falls off as he indignantly replies _of course, what do you mean!_ “Anyway, what about the second verse—”

“Hey Seungmin, have _you_ ever liked anyone else before?” Minho cuts in, propping an elbow on a music stand that he’s lowered in front of him. He flutters his eyelashes dramatically—as if that would make Seungmin inclined to share even more. It does not.

What really happens is Seungmin scoffing at Minho’s face. “If I did, I’m not sure why you think I’d tell _you_ ,” he retorts. “Okay, so for the second verse I think maybe we should—”

“I didn’t ask you for names, I was just wondering if you had _ever_ been interested in someone before,” Minho continues. He’s not really smiling, per se, but Seungmin can see the glint in his eyes, and that’s giving him some flashbacks which he’d rather not be having right now.

“Yeah, sure,” Seungmin vaguely replies, just to shut him up, and realizes that his voice came out sounding a lot more thoughtful and reminiscent than he had wanted it to because Minho shoots him an odd look. His eyes become strangely soft and sympathetic so Seungmin turns away—he doesn’t want or need pity.

Rather, Seungmin tries to steer the subject back to music, again. “Can we— _please—_ finally discuss this verse, because I don’t have all afternoon to waste.”

“Hmmm…” Minho absentmindedly taps his fingers against the notebook in his lap. 

Seungmin draws in a deep breath, and tries not to explode.

\---

As for Minho’s earlier question: Seungmin really _has_ been interested in someone else before. Exactly one person, and none other than his best friend in high school. 

It isn’t meant to be a big secret, but he’d rather still keep the information to himself for now than reveal it to someone like… Minho. 

In short, Seungmin had been drawn to Jisung’s loud and boisterous personality, and… well, also his incredible talent in music and academics. His soccer skills had perhaps been just as debatable as Seungmin’s, but it’s not like either of them were gunning to be professional athletes. 

Mostly Seungmin was just grateful to have such a good friend in high school that at some point he started feeling a bit.. more.

Actually, Jisung had really enabled some of those stronger feelings. Once, late at night working on homework together in Seungmin’s room, Jisung had brashly asked Seungmin to kiss him.

“To see how it is,” he had said, because neither of them had kissed anyone else before. 

Jisung had always been forward like that.

They were best friends, and if Jisung was confident in their bond enough to just spring such a question, Seungmin wasn’t going to decline the opportunity, especially when he had been dreaming about it for months. 

It was sloppy; neither of them had _any_ experience in that department. But then… they’d somehow ended up kissing again the next day. And then again. And all the practice soon made kissing Jisung feel like the best thing in the world. Study sessions turned into study _and_ makeout sessions in Seungmin’s room when his parents had been at work. Seungmin had never really thought of himself as a romantic, but with Jisung…

Seungmin and Jisung lasted about ten weeks before declaring that they were better off just as friends. 

Actually, only Jisung had declared that. Seungmin had cried in his room after Jisung left that day, and he hadn’t really been much of a crier, either. 

But, at least Jisung had confronted Seungmin about it—because Jisung had always been forward like that.

Apparently Jisung had begun developing a crush on some guy a year above them whom he had started talking to. He and Changbin had some math class together, but then he and Changbin and Chan (the very same soccer captain that Changbin was also apparently good friends with) started some strange music project that—to this day—Seungmin doesn’t really know all the details of. All he knows is that the three of them (actually, Chan had also invited Seungmin to join too after they went out for karaoke once, but Seungmin had declined mostly out of spite and not wanting to be in the same room as Changbin) had created some group called 3RACHA and that Jisung would only reveal very selective snippets of their songs to Seungmin, even though Seungmin had almost been a _part_ of that very group. (“We’re gonna make it big someday, Seungmin!” Jisung had said. “So no spoilers.”)

At first Seungmin didn’t listen to any of the snippets, even though he was incredibly curious, out of pure bitterness alone. Damn it, that Changbin guy had really hurt him. But Jisung started tacking on a bunch of different heart stickers and apologies to his messages every time he’d send a clip, and Seungmin eventually gave in and grudgingly listened. 

They sounded good. That night, Seungmin had possibly replayed some of Jisung’s rap parts multiple times, and he still has many of the sound clips saved on his phone, but… he’s moved on. Really. 

Anyway, Seungmin finally started hitting it off with Changbin after Jisung dragged him to enough of their soccer practices. (Actually, now Seungmin gets along really well with Changbin; he has a funny sense of humor and is definitely just as talented when it comes to making music, even if Seungmin had _wanted_ to hold a grudge against him.)

And Seungmin and Jisung made up so they’re back to being good friends again—even if they can’t see each other in person as often anymore—so he’s glad for that.

\---

Now that they’ve been paired up for this project, Seungmin starts bumping into Minho _everywhere._ It’s the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon or something—apparently now that they aren’t out to destroy each other on the field the universe has decided that they have to keep running into each other, as if seeing Minho multiple times a week in class and working on their project isn’t enough.

Because, apparently, Seungmin’s roommate, Hyunjin, is on a dance team with Minho. Seungmin learns this fact at eight in the morning one Wednesday when someone knocks on the door and Seungmin opens it to see… Minho, holding two cups probably filled with coffee. And some other guy he doesn’t recognize is clinging to Minho’s arm still looking half-asleep.

Seungmin’s sort of a morning person—he doesn’t particularly enjoy waking up early, per se, but he doesn’t mind it as much as some others do, since he has somewhat of a proper sleep schedule. Seeing Minho standing on the other side of the doorway somehow still looking cheery and immaculate with proper clothes leaves a sour taste in Seungmin’s mouth. While Seungmin tries to school away his disgruntled surprise, Minho appears completely composed, which leads to Seungmin wondering if Hyunjin has ever said anything to Minho about being roommates with him. 

“Good morning,” Seungmin says, and then drops the friendly ruse. “Why are you here?” His eyes drift curiously to the other boy who has his himself wrapped tightly around one of Minho’s arms like a koala, his fluffy dyed-blond hair all astray and his face resting on Minho’s shoulder as they stand there.

Minho laughs. “Tell Hyunjin to wake up, we have a dance practice to get to.”

“Oh,” Seungmin says. He files away the thought that Minho dances—in addition to being able to play soccer and sing, which is just… unfair. “That might take a moment,” he says. 

Hyunjin is probably as much of a morning person as the person leaning against Minho. He will sleep through multiple alarms and delay getting out of bed unless he has an important test or someone like Seungmin physically drags him out. 

Minho laughs again, spotting Hyunjin’s unmoving form curled up on his bed through the doorway. “That’s fine. We’re already running late.”

“Sorry,” the guy curled against Minho whines, and Minho snorts. “Felix stayed up really last night playing some video game and now he knows he shouldn’t do that again, right Felix?”

Felix must probably be Minho’s roommate, Seungmin concludes. But said roommate offers no reply because he is either avoiding the question and aware of his bad habits or because he has quite possibly fallen asleep. Seungmin decides to backtrack into the room to arouse a deeply-sleeping-Hyunjin.

“Oh!” Minho suddenly says, and Seungmin turns back around. “Here.” Minho extends the cups in his hands out, smiling. “Thought you could use some of this, and the other one’s for Hyunjin.”

That...isn’t what Seungmin had expected. “Thank you,” he says, racking his brain for some kind of ulterior motive Minho might have for bringing the both of them—not just Hyunjin—coffee. 

“You knew I was Hyunjin’s roommate, didn’t you,” Seungmin says, squinting at Minho as he takes the cups from his hands. Minho doesn’t reply, but he does stare expectantly back, so Seungmin takes a hesitant sip out of the cup Minho had indicated was for him. While the coffee has a bit more milk and sugar than he would normally get, it’s... “Not bad,” Seungmin says, tacking on another word of thanks. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Minho replies, shooting him a _wink_ that has Seungmin almost choking on the coffee, and then gestures to the couches in the common area. “Felix and I will wait outside but tell Hyunjin to hurry, please.”

Hyunjin, does not, in fact, hurry, and leaves the room ten minutes later just as Felix is starting to snore again from the couch. Next to him, Minho gestures to the two sleepyheads and shoots Seungmin a conspiratory look, like Seungmin’s suddenly been initiated into the somewhat-functioning-in-the-morning club. 

“See you later,” Minho calls back as he drags Felix awake again so they can leave, which reminds Seungmin that they have class together later… and that sours his mood again.

\---

Once, Seungmin runs into Minho at the library when he’s studying for a stats test. More specifically, Seungmin is seated at one of the tables in the back of the library when Minho comes across him and slides into the seat across from him.

“Nice meeting you here,” Minho begins, dropping his own books onto the table with a louder-than-necessary thump. 

Seungmin jerks his head up, shooting Minho a piercing stare. “Libraries are supposed to be _quiet_ ,” he emphasizes.

Minho just shrugs. “I don’t see anyone else around here.” Which is true; the reason Seungmin chose this table was because not many other students put in the effort to go all the way to the back corner of the third floor. 

“Still,” Seungmin says, unable to keep out the sharpness in his voice. “I’m here because I wanted peace and quiet, but I don’t know about you.”

Minho is grinning a devilish smile that makes Seungmin want to find a different table, but all the elder says is, “Sure, I’ll be quiet,” before pulling out a notebook and pen and flipping through a physics textbook. 

The next hour somehow actually passes by in relative silence, save for the quiet music playing through Seungmin’s earbuds and the quiet scritch-scratching of words on paper. 

But then Seungmin sort of gets distracted by how placid Minho is being for once; he’s taking a five-minute break that he allotted himself when he glances over his laptop and sees Minho’s face scrunched-up in concentration as he works through what seems to be a hard problem. 

Minho’s bottom lip is jutted out in a half-pout, teeth absentmindedly tugging at the skin there, his eyebrows are furrowed down (not cute, not at all), and his hair is a bit astray from resting his head in his free hand as he works. 

As if he has a sixth sense for situations like this, Minho chooses that moment to look up from the paper, just in time to catch Seungmin staring at him before he quickly ducks his head back down to stare fixedly at his laptop.

He’s not fast enough; he catches Minho’s face splitting into a funny smile before the other breaks into laughter. Loud laughter. Behind the screen, Seungmin smiles too—because at least he broke the seriousness on Minho’s face—and then catches himself and wills his mouth back into a flat line. 

It’s no use—Minho notices, and… there goes the peace. 

“Seungmin,” Minho starts, all faux-sweetness as he leans forward across the table. 

Seungmin fixes his eyes on the empty new tab he has open, hoping that if he ignores the other then Minho will stop.

But it’s not like Minho has ever really been deterred by Seungmin’s stony facade anyway. Instead, he pushes the lid of Seungmin’s laptop down halfway so he can lean even further forward—until he’s right up in Seungmin’s face. 

“Seungmin,” Minho says again, voice saccharine and not in a good way either—this sound, unlike Minho’s singing voice, is making Seungmin feel quite scared. “Wanna tell me what you were doing just then?”

Seungmin leans away. “Nothing?” he says. “Gross, get your face away.” 

(Minho’s face is not, as Seungmin says, _gross,_ but it’s easier to say that and pretend he doesn’t notice how attractive the other is even this close.) 

Minho, as predicted, does not move away, and that annoying grin stays plastered to his face.

Seungmin scoots his chair back. 

“Seungminnnnn,” Minho obnoxiously drawls out. He leans just the slightest bit more forward—as much as the table between them permits him to—to just study Seungmin’s expression. 

Seungmin tries to keep his face neutral, but he feels exposed, even though there’s really nothing he’s been exposed for. Or so that’s what he tells himself.

“Stop,” he instead says, bringing up his stats textbook and shoving it in front of Minho like a wall. But when he puts his book back down, Minho’s still there. 

Seungmin, who has had absolutely enough, or who maybe just wants a cut of victory for himself, decides to use Minho’s own methods on him, leaning forward himself and puckering his lips into an obnoxious kissy face at Minho instead.

Minho flinches away and the tips of his ears become pinkish-tinged, and Seungmin probably gets too much gratification from the sight. _Hah,_ he thinks. _One point for me._

The only thing is this—very soon Seungmin feels less and less like a winner. Because Minho finally returns to his physics problems and the flush in his ears fades away. And then a very self-satisfied smile begins blooming on Minho’s face—even though _he_ had been the one flustered—and Seungmin’s stomach churns uncomfortably, a mix of trepidation _and_ an unnamed something else.

\---

This week must be busy for the music students or something, because nearly all of the practice rooms are booked.

“I couldn’t get the room we normally use,” Seungmin tells Minho as they head down the hallway, “Because music majors have priority, but I did still get this one.”

It’s only when Seungmin closes the door behind them in the other room that Minho springs up. 

“Shit, wait,” he says, and then tries the door. It doesn’t open. He toggles the lock on the knob back and forth, but the door still won’t budge.

Minho turns slowly back to face Seungmin. “This… was the one with the broken lock.”

“ _Oh,”_ Seungmin says, and it suddenly all makes sense, why the only available room had been this one. “Oh no,” he says. 

The doorstopper that Seungmin has just noticed sits obnoxiously next to the sealed door. Seungmin glares at it. 

At least Minho doesn’t appear overjoyed either, even though there’s still obvious amusement painted across his face. “Sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention to where we were going, so I didn’t realize,” he says.

“It’s not really your fault either, though,” Seungmin points out. “I guess… we might as well get some work done, then?”

This was supposed to be their last time meeting up, anyway, since their song is almost finished. Just working on the final touches and making sure everything sounds good. It wasn’t supposed to be a long meeting, either, because of this, but now… it might be.

 _Oh, no_ , he thinks again. The rooms are also soundproof, and they’re actually soundproofed pretty well since they’re relatively new. 

“Um, if we shout someone will still probably hear, right?” Seungmin asks.

The look on Minho’s face is anything but reassuring. “That’s not the problem,” he says. “The lock is just broken. Last time I had to get the janitor for his keys to try and get it unstuck from the outside.”

Seungmin drops his backpack onto the ground. “Great. Amazing. Fantastic. Splendid.”

Minho rolls his eyes. “It’s not the end of the world—I get to spend more quality time with you, right?”

Seungmin mimes throwing up and Minho laughs. “I can text Felix, maybe and see if he’s around here so he can get the janitor later when we’re done.”

“Okay,” Seungmin says. “I’ll ask Hyunjin too.”

So they set to work, reviewing each part of the song and tweaking parts here and there for the final cut. By the time they’re done, Seungmin never wants to see the song again, and Minho seems to share the sentiment. 

“So,” Minho says, scrolling through his phone. “Felix hasn’t even seen my messages.” 

“I’m really gonna shout through the doors,” Seungmin says, because Hyunjin has replied with a _sorry T^T in a lab rn but i can still help if you need it in 2 hours._ Sent half an hour ago. Which means there’s still another hour and a half.

Seungmin actually attempts yelling, once, while Minho unhelpfully watches and covers his own ears from his seat. Seungmin doesn’t remember the last time he’s had to make his voice so loud. 

Alas, the other students must actually be practicing in their own rooms and can’t hear them through two doors and over the sound of their own music.

“So… an hour and a half?” Minho says, sounding ecstatic rather than upset. “That’s not _too_ long.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Seungmin dejectedly replies. He supposes it’s not horrible, and he has some books from his other classes if he wants to study, but he’s also getting kind of hungry; he hadn’t eaten much for lunch and now it’s nearing dinnertime. Not that he’s going to tell that to Minho, though.

“I know some ways to pass the time,” Minho tells him, and has the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows. 

“Uh…” Seungmin instinctively flinches away. “What… no?” He has an idea of what Minho’s insinuating, if the other’s stories about this room are anything to go by. But no. Just no. ( _Yes,_ a twisted part of him says, but Seungmin’s always been more controlled and clear-headed so he sides with the _no_ instead.)

“You don’t sound very sure.” One side of Minho’s lips quirk up—almost provocatively—and it is getting on Seungmin’s nerves. He is irritated and wants that dumb smirk gone from Minho’s face, the one that seems to taunt _do it, I dare you._

“I _am_ sure,” Seungmin says instead, pulling out a textbook from his bag and setting it on the music stand in front of him to prove it. 

As usual, Minho is anything but discouraged. He’s probably only more encouraged, honestly, like Seungmin’s distaste is his motivation. 

“Do you remember high school?” Minho abruptly says, leaning back in his seat. 

“Yeah?” Seungmin slowly replies, glancing at the other.

“It’s been so long since I’ve played soccer,” Minho muses. “I don’t even really like sports, or ball games, but I still enjoyed it while it lasted.”

The last time Seungmin played was fairly recently—his last high school game earlier in the year. He doesn’t mention that it had been a lot easier (and consequently, less enjoyable) to score past the other school’s goalie after Minho had graduated. 

But— “you didn’t like soccer?” Seungmin asks. “You were so good at it, though? That’s… seriously a shocker.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Minho replies, eyes glinting. “It’s the competitive spirit,” he explains. “Besides, it’s fun to win.”

“I.. guess,” Seungmin tentatively agrees. He thinks that Jisung would have totally gotten along with Minho, but they had never really interacted outside of games that they played.

“Like...now!” Minho grins victoriously, snatching Seungmin’s pencil bag out of his open backpack. Seungmin reaches for it, but he’s too late. “Don’t tell me you were actually going to study.”

“What if I was,” Seungmin defiantly replies, standing up and crossing his arms as he shoots an angry glare at Minho.

“That’s no fun,” Minho says, holding the pencil bag further around his back. 

Seungmin sticks out an empty and expectant hand. “I feel like I’m back in elementary school,” he says. “Please just give it back.”

“Nope,” Minho petulantly replies, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Well, if we’re going to talk about high school—you really annoyed me sometimes back then,” Seungmin tries instead.

“Oh?” Minho looks up, curiosity piqued. “Why?”

Swiftly, Seungmin’s arm shoots out and steals his pencils back the moment Minho is distracted.

“Aha,” Seungmin grins. “Gotcha.”

But Minho is still regarding him with a peculiar look on his face. “Why?” he asks again. 

Seungmin waves his hands around as he tries to explain. “The stupid smile on your face… all the time. And you were so arrogant.”

And now that very same stupid smile is back. “I _was_ a good goalie, though. You even said so yourself,” Minho replies..

“Yes, but…” Seungmin trails off. He can’t even explain it; Minho is just _Minho._

“When you put it that way, maybe you were a bit annoying during high school too,” Minho says. 

“Why?” it’s now Seungmin’s turn to ask.

“I had to focus harder whenever I saw that you had the ball,” Minho grins cockily, and it’s almost exactly how Seungmin had remembered him out on the field. 

Seungmin scoffs. “Good to know.”

“Anyway, you should really pay more attention,” Minho says, grin growing impossibly wider. He looks like a cat that has gotten the cream, ever-so-pleased with himself.

The pencil bag is sitting snugly in Minho’s hand again, and Seungmin hadn’t even felt it disappear, maybe because he had been so focused trying to formulate a reply to Minho’s question earlier. 

_Help,_ Seungmin thinks. “Why,” he complains instead. 

“Do you have any tests this week?” Minho cheerfully asks. 

“No, but—”

“Next week?”

“Next friday,” Seungmin resolutely answers.

“Pshhh,” Minho huffs. “Then you’re fine. No need to spend every waking hour studying when your next test is more than a week away.” 

Seungmin frowns.

“Seungmin, you’ll be fine,” Minho says, eyes softening and voice more sincerely this time as he looks Seungmin in the eyes. “Why don’t you just take the next hour to… relax, or something.” 

That would be hard with Minho also in the room. But, Seungmin decides, he might relent just this once. 

Not without getting back what’s rightfully his, though, first. 

Seungmin lunges forward again, swiping his hand out for the pencil bag… but he had maybe moved _too_ viciously, there, because he loses balance and has to catch on to the nearest thing to stay upright, which happens to be Minho’s shoulders. Beneath him, Minho’s eyes widen—for once he’s caught off guard, Seungmin notes with a horrible sense of satisfaction—as the chair he’s sitting on tips precariously backwards with the momentum, but it luckily comes tipping back and the chair rights itself the next second.

“Sorry,” Seungmin says, before realizing that his fingers are still digging into Minho’s sweater and that for the second time in the past week Minho’s face is _very_ close. 

Minho looks up at him, blinking innocently. “I still have it,” he says, referring to the goddamn pencil bag. 

“Whatever,” Seungmin finally says, pulling away from Minho’s shoulders as fast as he can. The image of Minho’s face close-up—his delicately-curled eyelashes, dark eyes, and soft lips—has been burned into his eyelids, though, and Seungmin can’t shake it from his head. 

_Help,_ he thinks again, though for a different reason this time.

Minho infuriates him, but Minho is also infuriatingly attractive. 

\---

After that, the room falls into a tense silence. Maybe it’s only tense to Seungmin. Minho starts humming some tunes under his breath and Seungmin wants to tell him to shut up but he just can’t; as he said before, Minho has an objectively pleasant voice when he’s not using it to purposely bother Seungmin. 

So Seungmin _tries_ to relax. He really would have cracked open his textbook if it were up to him, but Minho still has his pencil bag nested in his lap, elbows resting on it as he holds up his phone. He could just _read,_ but Seungmin knows he’s not going to remember much of it if he doesn’t also take notes, and now he really doesn’t feel like attempting to get his writing implements back again, so he folds a music stand up so that it is horizontal and rests his head on it instead.

He doesn’t fall asleep since his body isn’t used to really taking naps in the first place, and mostly closing his eyes just makes everything worse since he can still picture Minho’s face right in front of him all-too-perfectly when he does.

Hyunjin eventually comes to help them, janitor in tow, and that’s the end of it.

\---

That was supposed to be the end of it.

It was the last time they had to meet up outside of class, but even though they’ve finished the assignment… they still have class together. Twice a week.

And Minho is still Minho. He still dutifully takes notes in class, but once in a while he’ll slide in some witty remark related to the lecture material and Seungmin actually finds himself laughing at it. 

Slowly, Seungmin comes to accept that he might just like Minho a bit. Maybe more than a bit. Like everything else when it comes to Minho, the idea of _liking Minho_ bothers him, but it’s not like Seungmin can really do anything to stop it from happening.

\---

The semester crawls to an end, and Seungmin and Minho score pretty high marks on their assignment. After finals are over, Seungmin goes back home to his parents’ for winter break and meets up with Jisung, who is also back home for break, and who actually— _finally_ —lets him listen to some of 3RACHA’s finished tracks. They sound good, really good, and Seungmin cracks up when he thinks about how he and Minho had kept bickering over some sections of their one song while here Jisung, Chan, and Changbin had been writing so many songs since the school year started.

“Why are you laughing to yourself?” Jisung suspiciously asks him as they’re huddled in his bed over his laptop, a set of earbuds split between them. 

“Nothing,” Seungmin dismisses him, and then the thought strikes him that he might actually _miss_ Minho’s presence. He used to think of their back-and-forth banter as stupid, but now he might barely classify it as fun.

It’s ironic, sitting there all nice and cozy with his high-school crush, while things keep reminding him of _Minho_ instead.

As Seungmin remembers thinking at the start of the year, Minho definitely meant trouble. But maybe Seungmin hadn’t considered _this_ sort of trouble.

\---

Minho and Seungmin have exchanged numbers, but they’ve really only messaged each other for arranging meet-ups for their project. 

So Seungmin is surprised when he receives a text from Minho late one night in the middle of break:

 **Minho** **  
** >hiya  
>do you miss me

 **Seungmin** **  
** wtf no<

 **Minho** **  
** >awww 💔  
>well i hope you’re having a fun break

 **Seungmin** **  
** sure...<

 **Minho** **  
** >really!  
>i hope you are  
>bc sometimes it seems like you spend too much time studying :///

 **Seungmin** **  
** and?<

 **Minho** **  
** >can’t i look out for you  
>you better be having fun *^*

 **Seungmin** **  
** i’m not studying during break anyway so dw<  
well mostly not<

 **Minho** **  
** >haha of course  
>anyway stopped by ur dorm yesterday and only hyunjin was there  
>so when are you coming back?

 **Seungmin** **  
** why were you looking for me anyway< **  
** and why do you want to know<

 **Minho** **  
** >the skating rink downtown is open for winter  
>you should come with felix hyunjin and i sometime before break ends  
>that is if you’re coming back anytime soon

 **Seungmin** **  
** oh<

 **Minho** **  
** >so?

 **Seungmin** **  
** i’ll be back for the last few days<

 **Minho** **  
** >nice!  
>how does last saturday sound

 **Seungmin** **  
** this is you already assuming i’m agreeing to it<

 **Minho** **  
** >you will

 **Seungmin** **  
** what<  
i was gonna say no<

 **Minho** **  
** >don’t lie  
>hyunjin says you haven’t skated before and i know you’d want to try  
>it’s an irresistible offer  
>i’m irresistible ;)))

 **Seungmin** **  
** 🙄<  
when did i even tell him that????<  
but yeah i’ll go i guess<

 **Minho** **  
** >so you really do miss me

 **Seungmin** **  
** are you really this bored<

 **Minho** **  
** >that’s not nice ;-;;  
>but hey you didn’t say no!  
_message read._

They exchange a couple more messages throughout the next couple weeks, mostly just Minho cheekily wishing him a _merry christmas!!!!!_ and _happy new year seungmin :DD_ and Seungmin responding with the same. Seungmin enjoys his well-deserved rest from school, but also pretends like he isn’t actually excited for the end of the week because it’s been a while since he’s gone out with friends that weren’t Jisung and the rest of 3RACHA.

\---

That Saturday morning has _Hyunjin_ waking him up for once, which is just the oddest feeling ever—seeing Hyunjin already bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as he shakes Seungmin awake.

Seungmin admits that maybe he’d let his sleep schedule get a bit out of hand when he had gone back home, but it’s still weird.

“What?” he asks, grudgingly sitting up on his bed.

“Look,” Hyunjin eagerly tells him, pulling the blinds to the side. “It snowed a bit last night!”

“Oh. That’s it?” Seungmin says, crawling back under the covers. It’s not a lot of snow, either—just enough to coat the sidewalks and grass outside in a whitish sheen.

“I’m gonna go down and get breakfast, just don’t forget we’re ice skating later,” Hyunjin calls over his shoulder—as if Seungmin could forget, when _Minho_ would be there too.

Evening rolls around and the two of them leave their dorm to meet up with Felix and Minho; Felix looks adorably bundled up in a furry jacket and red beanie pulled down over his hair, and Seungmin catches Hyunjin’s cheeks turning interestingly red when Felix pulls him into a hug, and notes it down in the back of his head. Minho tips his head towards the two in acknowledgement—“Don’t worry, they claim that they’re just good friends, so I haven’t locked them in a practice room yet,” he says, and Seungmin can’t stop himself from laughing at the thought. He can’t help but notice that Minho looks good too—as usual—and the pleased grin he’s currently giving Seungmin isn’t helping.

They take the bus downtown because they’re all broke college students, making small talk about what they did over winter break. Many of the decorations from the holidays are still out, and all the lights downtown make the atmosphere still somewhat festive, especially as the sun sinks lower beneath the horizon. 

It’s only when they get to the rink that Seungmin’s anticipation starts turning into nervousness; somehow, he’s the only one in their group who hasn’t skated before. He doesn’t want to make a complete fool of himself or bother the others too much. 

Luckily (or unluckily), Minho seems to notice this, sitting next to Seungmin as he slowly laces up his skates. 

“I can help you out if you want,” Minho offers—and it’s not like Seungmin has another choice, since Felix is already eagerly tugging Hyunjin up towards the rink. 

“Thanks,” Seungmin responds, tucking his regular shoes under a bench and standing up—and immediately almost losing balance. The next thing he knows, he’s clinging embarrassingly to one of Minho’s arms as they head up the steps to the rink. 

The ice feels solid under his feet, but definitely more slippery. Of course Minho pulls himself out of Seungmin’s grasp the moment they step onto the rink, laughing when Seungmin lets out a strangled shriek. He wobbles for a moment before grabbing onto the side of the rink to stabilize himself.

“A warning next time would have been nice,” Seungmin says, glaring at Minho and watching enviously as Felix and Hyunjin glide past them. They aren’t super steady on their feet, either, but at least they have enough experience to not look like they’re on the verge of falling every other second.

“The railing was right there,” Minho points out. “You can’t expect me to hand-hold you through the whole process.”

Seungmin takes a few tentative steps forward, using the railing to steady himself. 

“Right? It’s not that bad,” Minho says.

“Easy for you to say,” Seungmin tells him. He’s determined now—he’ll get this figured out on his own—he’s sure he can do it, but rather than leaving Seungmin to do his own business, Minho seems more entertained by just watching him struggle.

Seungmin tries to ignore him, but it’s hard. “Are you just going to stand there and watch me all day?”

“Nah,” Minho easily replies, skating forward. Suddenly Seungmin feels a pair of hands on his shoulders, pulling him backwards a little bit. 

“A _warning_ would have been nice,” Seungmin says again, as his feet almost give way at the sudden change in his posture (and thus center of gravity). 

“You’re hunched over too much,” Minho tells him, matter-of-factly, and his hands fall away. “Just keep your back straight and put one foot forward at a time—like you’re walking.”

“Okay,” Seungmin reluctantly does just that, and after a moment of getting used to his new posture he _can_ say that he feels a lot less tense this way. And then he gets too confident and his feet slip out from under him—Seungmin grabs desperately onto the railing but it’s no use and he falls to the ground.

“It was a nice try,” Minho’s face appears over him. “But you gotta get up and try again if you expect to get further than ten steps from the entrance,” he tells him. 

Minho’s trying to help, Seungmin knows that. But his choice of words isn’t very motivating, and Seungmin grabs one of Minho’s legs and tugs, watching evilly as Minho finally loses some of his composure. 

“Thanks,” Seungmin dryly tells him as he shakily pushes himself back up onto two feet.

It takes him a few minutes, but he’s finally making faster progress around the edge of the rink—though his movement is definitely more stilted than smooth. 

“Oh! I have an idea,” Minho says, face lighting up enough to rival the swathes of holiday lights that are still stretched out across the rink over them. Seungmin, meanwhile, only feels a growing sense of trepidation. 

“Take your hand off the rail,” Minho instructs him.

“I’m going to fall,” Seungmin retorts.

“You won’t,” Minho reassures, stepping in front of him and taking Seungmin’s free hand in his. It’s warm, warm enough that Seungmin feels his face heating up too, but he drops his other hand from the railing and Minho takes that one too. Now he’s really warm, and Seungmin wishes he had worn gloves so he didn’t have to feel the pressure of each of Minho’s individual fingers as they curl around Seungmin’s palms.

“There. You didn’t fall.” Minho grins, and Seungmin has no time to respond before he’s being pulled forward across the rink—Minho is skating backwards, albeit a bit wobbly himself, and the railing is getting further and further away. “Please tell me if I’m going to run into someone, though, since I can’t see behind me.”

Seungmin nods. Thankfully, the rink isn’t too busy tonight; there’s just a smattering of people, and most of them are moving out of their way before they get too close, anyway. Seungmin grips Minho’s hands harder because it’s the only thing he can do, but leaving the railing doesn’t feel as hard as he thought it would be. Though, it does feel harder to concentrate—now, Minho’s face is in front of his again, and it’s sort of hard to look anywhere else.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to hand-hold me through this,” Seungmin remarks, distracting himself and poking fun at Minho at the same time.

Minho scoffs, but for once he doesn’t have a good reply—under the strings of lights, Seungmin can see that his ears are rapidly coloring, and definitely not just because of the cold. Somehow, Seungmin has the distant thought that the sight in front of him is _cute,_ and that makes Seungmin feel more flustered himself. 

If Minho notices Seungmin staring at the tips of his ears in fascination, he doesn’t comment on that. Seungmin nearly comments on it himself, just to be a brat, but as he opens his mouth Minho beats him—

“Hey, you’re doing it,” Minho says instead, and Seungmin belatedly realizes that he _is_ doing it. Sort of. He hadn’t noticed but Minho had gradually upped the pace, and they’re almost skating smoothly now, Seungmin taking consistent steps forward to match each push Minho takes backward. 

“I am,” he breathes out, and then looks back up to smile at Minho, finally forgetting the need to make a snide comment or pull a face.

Minho freezes—one of his legs hesitates before remembering its duty and pushing back—but Seungmin is still going at the same pace, and he all but careens into Minho. Both lose their balance, tumbling to the ice.

“Sorry,” Minho apologizes, quickly pulling himself up and offering his hands back out to Seungmin, who gratefully takes them when he is off the ground again. It doesn’t escape Seungmin that Minho’s cheeks are now tinted red too, but he honestly probably looks the same. 

“It’s fine,” Seungmin dismisses it, refusing to think about _why_ Minho had likely slipped up in the first place. 

They start skating again, but it’s not long before Minho gives him a sneaky grin and then drops his hands, leaving Seungmin drifting in the middle of the ice rink with no leverage at all. 

“Your turn,” Minho says. Seungmin propels himself forward, surprised that he hasn’t fallen yet.

Then he hears an “Hey Minho, hey Seungmin!” being shouted at them and Hyunjin suddenly comes gliding right in front of him… and because Seungmin doesn’t know how to stop, he goes crashing into the other and Seungmin’s on the ice again.

“Whoops,” Hyunjin says, as Felix catches up to them bearing concerned doe-eyes. Needless to say, Seungmin is taught how to come to a basic stop by angling one of his skates after that. And gradually, his skating grows more and more confident. Enough that Felix declares they all race across the rink (weaving around the other skaters in the process). To absolutely no surprise, Seungmin finishes last, although only just barely to Hyunjin. He counts it as a success.

The night ends after they head out and stop by a street vendor selling roasted sweet potatoes, which almost melt in Seungmin’s mouth and fill his stomach with warmth. 

Then they’re on the bus back, the lull of the vehicle under them combined with the food in their stomach puts them all in a peaceful silence after the excitement has died down. Halfway through, Seungmin feels a tap to his shoulder, and it’s Minho pointing across from them at how Felix and Hyunjin have fallen asleep against each other’s shoulders. It’s a cozy sight, although less cozy when both of them start grumbling at being woken up when they get back to the campus. 

All in all, it’s a good night. 

Except what happens afterward will be stuck in Seungmin’s head for the next day—or two, or three—

Minho insists on dropping a sleepy Felix off at their dorm before walking Seungmin and Hyunjin back to their own dorm (which at least isn’t too far). But after Hyunjin has already entered the room Minho pulls Seungmin aside, gently shutting the door and leaving the two of them standing in the empty hallway. 

“Minho?” Seungmin asks, confused, and looks back at the closed door of his and Hyunjin’s room longingly. “Sorry, I’m kind of tired too, but thanks for walking us back, you really didn’t have to…?”

Minho smiles—it’s not a basking-in-Seungmin’s-misfortune smile, nor is it a taunting come-at-me smile. It’s small, and barely there, and Seungmin only really notices it because he sees it also reflected in Minho’s eyes. If Seungmin had to place a feel to it, he might say silently determined, and a hint bashful. 

Before Seungmin has time to dwell on the meaning of it, Minho leans forward and presses his mouth to Seungmin’s own. Just for a second, maybe, but Seungmin feels it all—the soft and hot pressure and cold-chapped ridges on Minho’s lips, and then the warm (and shaky) exhale as he pulls away. 

“Wanted to do that earlier on the ice rink, but I wasn’t sure how you’d handle that after you had just learned how to skate,” Minho whispers—and has the audacity to sound so teasing while he does so. The sentence is so undeniably Minho but Seungmin is still reeling from it all and he can’t form a response—let alone a witty one—in return. 

Minho grins. Gloating, as usual, perhaps especially at Seungmin’s stupefied reaction. The only consolation is that Minho’s ears are blazing red (it must be his tell, he realizes). 

Minho pats down Seungmin’s shoulders before steering him back towards the door. 

“Goodnight, Seungmin,” he says quietly, but he’s still smiling a faintly-satisfied smile as he turns around and starts heading back down the halls. 

\---

They only have one last day of break, and then the second semester begins. 

This time it’s a little less surprising and more pleasant than not when Seungmin sees Minho filing into the next music class in the series. 

Still, Seungmin stares at the other as he drops into the chair on the left. 

“What?” Minho turns to him, and the question is innocent enough, but it’s the first time they’ve talked since Minho _kissed_ him a few days ago. 

“Hey, I just had a fun experience in the last music class, okay, so I decided to also take this one,” Minho cheekily continues when Seungmin doesn’t respond.

“We need to talk,” Seungmin finally says, deciding to be forward about it.

“After class.” Minho grins, even though the teacher is only going through the syllabus. Of course he would choose now to focus on academics. It irks Seungmin a bit, as usual, but unfortunately Seungmin kind of… likes it. He likes whatever this push-and-pull they have is, and he kind of enjoys being the center of Minho’s attention, even if Minho’s only trying to get a reaction out of him when he steals Seungmin’s pencil bag (so, clearly, not focusing on academics after all) off the table.

And then Seungmin promptly snatches away Minho’s phone instead, and, yeah… maybe he enjoys eliciting reactions out of Minho just as much.

\---

When Seungmin said they needed to talk, he really thought they were going to talk.

There’s a small park across from the music buildings and Seungmin thought Minho was taking him there after class because it was quieter, further away from the bustle of students.

So that they could talk. 

Really, it ends up being less talk and more:

“So,” Seungmin very pointedly says, after they are sitting down on a park bench, “Saturday night.”

“And what about it?” Minho says, grinning. 

“You—” Seungmin glares at him. “What do you mean, what about it?” he retorts. “You just did that and then walked away!” 

“Okay, then I’ll explain it now,” Minho replies, drawing it out and clearly delighting in Seungmin’s clear impatience. “And I’ll explain it in easy terms.”

“Please,” Seungmin replies. 

“I like you,” Minho simply tells him. “I think that’s enough of an explanation.”

Maybe Seungmin had seen that coming. “You know what?” he asks. 

“What?” Minho entertains him, and the smile on his face has not once wavered. Seungmin would know—because, somehow, in the past minute, they’ve gotten closer and closer; they had started out next to each other on the bench, and then in their back-and-forth they’d ended up almost in each other’s faces. 

“Unfortunately, I like you too,” Seungmin returns, and then presses his lips to Minho’s this time because he’s petty like that and wants to have the final word. 

… which he does not get. Minho pulls away, smiling even harder, and then victoriously says, “Knew it.” 

Seungmin brings his hands up and yanks Minho’s face down this time, and if this kiss turns a little aggressive, then, well, at least Minho’s no longer able to get in another word.

\---

“You really just liked me all along,” Minho tells him later, anyway, after Seungmin panics and realizes that he has another class to get to. 

“Nope,” Seungmin insists, although he isn't really sure when the line between dislike and like became blurred. 

What he is sure about, however, is that there are two phones stashed in his jacket pocket and only one is his, and Minho’s definitely going to be fuming later when he finds out. 

Luckily for Seungmin, these days he thinks Minho will probably be satisfied with a penalty kiss rather than a penalty kick, instead.

\---

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if you made it here, i'd love to know what you thought! regardless, thank you for reading, and again, i wish you a warm and happy holidays :D  
>    
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/in_a_rabbithole)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/glissandos)


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